


i'll come to thee by moonlight

by jellie_bean



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 17:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21040010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellie_bean/pseuds/jellie_bean
Summary: Winnifred Rose attends a fundraiser in Avonlea that none other than Anne Shirley-Cuthbert herself helped organize. She quickly realizes why dear Gilbert Blythe is so taken by the young woman, and may have a word to say before about the obvious attraction before the afternoon is over.





	i'll come to thee by moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this came from? But I'm writing again after so many years so I'll take it. I truly believe Winnifred could be pivotal in Anne and Gil's relationship without causing drama and remain friends with both as the years go on.

Winnifred Rose sat snuggly between a tall blonde boy, of whom she noticed dressed quite fashionably and exquisitely for someone of his age, and her dear friend, Gilbert Blythe. She glanced curiously about the luxurious garden in which they sat at, as the beautiful blooms gently swayed from the early afternoon summer breeze on the island. She suddenly startled as her attention was swiftly refocused on the dainty, soft girl raising her voice in passionate cry as she finished the end of her poem. The crowd gathered around the small platform before them clapped in admiration at her performance, and she heard a loud ‘whoop’ from a group of boys seated in the section of chairs to their right. She clapped politely along with the others from Avonlea. The small freckled girl smiled shyly from her spot on the stage and gave a curtsy bow before exiting and seating herself in the front row next to a familiar head of auburn hair.

“Next, we welcome to the stage, Miss Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Miss Shirley-Cuthbert will be reciting The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.”

Winnifred watched as the young woman made her way from her chair up onto the stage. To her right, she sensed Mr. Blythe shift in his seat, slowly leaning forward in anticipation. Had it not been for this fundraiser organized by the spirited Anne herself, Winnifred would not be seated where she was today. Gilbert had expressed his excitement for the fundraiser in his last letter, urging Miss Rose to attend with him in order for her to finally meet this Anne he had fondly spoken of many times in the past.

Anne gracefully took her place in the center of the flower-adorned platform and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Gilbert’s body inched even closer to the edge of his seat as the girl dressed in a luxuriously deep blue satin dress began to speak.

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding—  
Riding—riding—  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

All around her, eyes that were nodding in tiredness or looking elsewhere quickly became fixed on the redhead’s delivery of the famous poem. It was as if a spell were overtaking the crowd, herself included in the magic this faerie was casting over them. Winnifred could not help but glance over at the curly headed boy. Wonder and awe were written clearly on his features, yet his own eyes held a secret that he had never revealed in all the time she had known him. Gilbert was in love. No, perhaps love was too light of a word. He was smitten, captivated, and completely bewitched by Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. A hidden smile made the corners of her lips turn upward at the realization.

As the poem drew to a close, Winnifred understood why this enchanting young woman had captured the heart of her close friend because she had been drawn into the same allure. Why Anne had no sooner breathed the final words of the poem than Gilbert was already on his feet clapping fervently with the crowd and shouting, “Encore!” The crowd seemed to follow suit and the tall blonde boy next to Winnifred joined in Gilbert’s pleas for more from Anne. Miss Rose saw the redhead glance purposefully in their direction as she beamed and bowed for those cheering at her magnificent delivery. The color creeping up her cheeks began to match that of her hair as Gilbert whistled and smiled so widely his dimples dotted his cheeks.

After an encore performance from Anne, the poetry reading ended and those attending the fundraiser dispersed and headed toward the refreshments located in another section of the majestic garden. Winnifred trailed behind Gilbert and the tall boy who had been sitting beside her, of whom she learned was also a friend of Anne’s, named Cole. They found Miss Shirley-Cuthbert surrounded by an entourage of men, women, and children alike, complimenting and commenting on the zeal they had experienced from her performance. Waiting patiently as she graciously accepted and thanked their praises, she suddenly came bounding over to them, smiling eagerly and laughing happily.

She threw her arms around Cole first and he spun her around once before placing her firmly back on the ground. “Oh Anne!” he exclaimed proudly, taking her hand in his own.

Miss Rose observed the interaction between the pair rather quizzically and stole another glance at Gilbert, who did not appear taken back by the gesture.

“You were simply marvelous! The way you proclaimed the last stanza nearly had me in tears!” Cole clutched at his heart for added dramatic effect and Anne nearly doubled over in laughter.

“We have both come a long way since our days imagining up all kinds of stories in my room at Green Gables, have we not?” Anne stated, catching her breath, and turning away from Cole to Gilbert and Winnifred.

Winnifred watched as Gilbert opened his mouth and his hand began to gesture in her direction when Anne abruptly cut him short by enveloping him in a tight hug. He appeared taken back as he nearly lost his balance, but his arms soon found their way around her petite waist.

“Thank you for coming!” she cried as they broke apart. “Really and truly, Gilbert. I daresay I might not have been on that stage if it had not been for your dear companionship after school these past weeks.”

Gilbert looked down at the ground, flustered at the unexpected recognition from Anne, a blush crawling up his neck from beneath his collar. “You were remarkable, Anne. I was only an outlet for your creativity and talent,” he said fondly, his eyes meeting hers as the two shared a moment in which Winnifred felt like she was intruding upon.

Anne was the first to break the trance by turning to Winnifred and taking both of her hands in her own. “You must be Miss Rose. I was so pleased to hear that you were attending the fundraiser. I hope you have enjoyed Avonlea. Before you leave, I simply must show you The Lake of Shining Waters. It would be a shame to miss such a glorious sight at this time of the year,” said Anne with nearly as much fervor as the poem she had just recited.

Taken aback slightly by her enthusiasm, Winnifred returned the offer with a genuine smile herself and squeezed the redhead girl’s hands, declaring, “How could I pass up such a lovely proposal for adventure, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert? Perhaps while we are there, you could read another poem? I do not think I can take another conversation about the latest medical practice from Mr. Blythe.” She shot Gilbert a teasing look and he shrugged in return.

Winnifred feared Anne was going to burst from elation—quite literally—after hearing her proposal and the redhead squealed delightedly. “Yes of course! I—”

However, before she could finish her next thought, she was being ushered away by a short, stout, grey haired woman who had been calling her name and informed her that she must meet one of the biggest donors of the fundraiser. Anne turned and waved, mouthing ‘Good-bye’ to the three of them as she disappeared in the flock of people.

“I think I know where your passion lies, Gilbert,” she smirked as he stared after the satin outline of the girl. He turned, giving her a puzzled look and she continued. “Oh please, dear friend. You may deny it until you are blue in the face, but your eyes tell me all that I need to know. Perhaps anyone for that matter. You mustn’t let someone like her slip away from you. She’s a rarity in this big world.” Winnifred would know, seeing as she had met many people from all kinds of places thus far in her short lifetime.

Gilbert stood there, his brow furrowed after listening to her words, his brain making an obvious effort to understand everything she had spoken to him. Then, it was as if a new dawning had just occurred to him, and the lines in his forehead smoothed. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder and uttered a ‘Thank-you’ before turning on his heel to go find the auburn-haired girl she assumed.

She stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather smug with herself for helping a friend in need. Perhaps one day, she would find an equal partner in life like Gilbert with Anne, but for now, she was content in experiencing more that this world had to offer. She was awakened from her reverie when Cole, who she had nearly forgotten was still standing beside her, spoke.

“I think you and I are going to be good friends,” he said with a glint in his eye that said, ‘I have been telling them the same thing for years.’ Miss Rose grinned up at him and accepted the gentlemanly arm he extended.

“Shall we drink to prosperity or continued foolishness?” she questioned as they arrived at the beverage table, handing him a glass of punch and taking one of her own.

“Both!” he chuckled, as they clinked glasses and each took sips of the sweet, orange liquid.

Winnifred would later learn that his toast would reign remarkably true.


End file.
